#I damaged my vocal chords

[maggie-margret-blog]

I can’t believe I saw this man live!!!!!

I cried like a motherfucker after the show! I DID NOT want to back home!

[jacksallys]

kevin day is so rachel berry coded

[applejongho]

hello. inspired by your "ateez as my favorite songs" thing, please see my vision: jongho covers king for a day by pierce the veil. guerilla had screamo and jongho should do it too. please see my vision

I see your vision. In fact my third eye is opening. I agree I agree I agree I agree I agree I agree

[thisseethingcoast]

god I really gotta fix my vocal fry

[a9saga]

tbt - alice nine - subete e

I’m still in love with everything... Apparently, I just cant hate this world dyed in your colors

happy new year!!

[barnabyboppins]

When you get this you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) <3

1. I'm hot and also pretty, physically speaking. Thick silky brown hair, hazel eyes, an almost everpresent smile that is clearly quite charming given the ease in which people brighten up around me.

2. I am of many skills and talents. Storytelling; art; music; reading; critical thinking; the other handful of miscellaneous skills I wield

3. Unwavering confidence in my character: this is self explanatory

4. I am, self-described and otherwise, weird as f**k. Not weird in the unsettling or uncomfortable form of the word. Not weird in the "omg look I'm so weird *makes a tiny mess/does a singular odd movement to prove their point" way that a lot of people respond with but eccentric and eclectic in all I do and all I am, yet based in maturity and eloquence

5. I am really good with children thanks to my six younger siblings

Also I don't actually have 10 followers and like 3 of them have never used the blog or reblog buttons so that's a thinf

[sodacowboy]

the haste in which being overheated and sweaty instills a primal rage in me is actually so normal

[kananjarus]

I’m a music festival girlie now

[lovelovex]

Shit whys ur name not in any of the dates !

bc i’m not participating much this year

[fluffykitteninabox]

i did a second test, also negative

there will not be any murder it seems

i can visit my family as planned

[moralesluvr]

omggg pls do miles 42 with a daughter (preferably a baby) !!🥺

daddy's little princess ft. miles morales

♡ pairings & aus: husband!dad!earth42!miles morales x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: you come home from work to your two favorite people bonding with each other ♡ warnings: mentions of murder..pretty sure thats it ♡ a/n: anon don't play w me this is convincing me to have a baby ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

YOUR HUSBAND LOVED HIS TWO GIRLS more than anything. That being you, of course-- his wife, along with your beautiful daughter Aaliyah, who had just turned one a couple days ago. Ever since you had become pregnant and he asked you to marry him, he's only had a soft spot for you and your little one.

Today, unfortunately, your boss called you at six in the morning to inform you that you were needed in the courthouse immediately, for whatever reason. While your husband was out doing whatever 'gangster' stuff he pleased in your teenage years, you had went through college and bagged a couple degrees in forensics and law. Miles had stopped being the prowler when he found out that you were pregnant, the ultimate fear of putting his daughter in danger causing him to pick up a well-paying job that allowed him to work from home. So here he was, your little girl laying on his chest as he watched you get ready. He carefully sat up, slowly bouncing her on his shoulder so that she wouldn't wake. He whispered, "Do you have to go? Tell that lil boy that today was your day off."

You giggle, slipping on your work pants, "He isn't some 'lil boy', Miles, he's my boss. And I wish I could stay, but apparently it's a really important case and they need the best of the best."

"Oh, so you sayin' you that girl, hm?" He whispered, rubbing your daughter's back when he heard her coo. You giggled, slipping on a white button up and undoing the top three, a black blazer accenting the plain blouse. You grabbed your purse and keys and headed over to your husband and beautiful daughter, kissing her on her forehead, "I guess so. I should be back by three or four, depending on how many people this person decided to slaughter."

"If you ain't home by four, I'll be the one up in that courthouse." Miles warns, but his lips stretch into a smile as he gives you a quick kiss on the lips, "I love you. Be safe."

You nod, "You gonna be okay with Aaliyah? Lately she's been fussy."

"This is literally my daughter, remember?" Your husband remarks jokingly, "She'll be okay. I got her, hermosa."

"Mkay." You suck your teeth with uncertainty, "Love you both endlessly."

And with that, you were out the door.

For the first four hours that you were gone, everything was a breeze. Aaliyah would let out an occasional cry or whine when she was hungry or needed to be changed, but she didn't start really acting up until about one 'o clock, where she was screaming so loud, Miles was sure that she had damaged her vocal chords beyond repair. He tried everything he possibly could- playing with her, trying to put her to sleep, feeding her, and nothing was working.

Finally, he just sighed, picking her up and holding her up to his head. He bounced her, "What's the matter lil ma, huh? Why're you cryin'? Is it cause you miss mommy?"

That statement earns a cry.

"Yeah...I miss her too." He sighs, placing your daughter on his shoulders as he holds her hands with his own, making his way to the living room. He then sits down and places her next to him, "Okay, if you stop cryin', then we can have some ice cream and watch some of mommy's TV shows that she doesn't let us watch. I'll let you pick, but you can't tell, okay? How does that sound?"

He knows that realistically, your daughter can't make out half of what he's saying, but he finds it hilarious when Aaliyah gives him a nod, her cries slowly started to silence. He smiles and hurriedly runs to the kitchen to fix one bowl of small strawberry ice cream and one bowl of vanilla. He grabs a small spoon and runs over to your daughter, who's sucking on her tiny fists angrily. Miles eyes her, "No, baby, look- here's your ice cream."

He feeds her a spoonful and she immediately gives him a toothless grin, "Yummy!"

"It is, isn't it? It's bussin'. Can you say bussin'?"

He laughs when Aaliyah just gives him incoherent noises. He then turns on the TV and clicks 'Real Housewives'. Was it necessarily appropriate? No, but then again, the girl was one, so as long as it stopped her screeching, it was good to go.

Before the two of them knew it, you were home, walking through the front door and expecting your husband and baby girl to be up and rowdy. Instead, you saw Aaliyah resting on Miles' chest, his head hanging off of the couch's armrest. Two bowls of ice cream were completely empty with spoons inside of them, licked completely clean. The muffled sound of your favorite show played aloud. You smiled and kicked off your flats, grabbing a blanket from the linen closet as you slid next to your husband. You felt him wrap an arm around you sleepily, "Mami?"

"I'm here." You smiled, snuggling into your lover's side as your hand ghosted over your baby's thick hair. You heard Miles mumble against your ear, "I love you."

And you replied sweetly, eyelashes batting as you felt the opiate of sleep undertake you,

"I love you more."

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @my3tumbles // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10 // @adoree-kaelynn // @mhadnirb // @mmst4rz // @iris-theflower // @fleurrieerecs // @kenlani // @kala2022

[aakeysmash]

ok ok, another one here:

reader being afraid of some insect and sukuna just teasing them cause of it but still taking the insect out of the house.

sukuna calmly walks into your room after hearing the highest scream he's ever heard someone make. he leans on your doorframe, one of his eyebrows raised and his hands in the pocket of his sweats.

"are you trying to permanently damage your vocal chords?" he asks your trembling form. you scream again, caught by surprise since you didn't hear his footsteps, then turn around. he's stunned when, in a matter of 0.2 seconds, he finds you curled around his leg.

"you look like a fucking toddler. you sounded like one, actually. are you a toddler?" he says while shaking his leg, trying to get you to stop gripping him.

"why didn't you come sooner if you were home?" you whine, still gripping his leg with all you've got. you've got that toddler strength in you, apparently.

"because i didn't want to have to remove blood from my clothes in case you were getting killed," he deadpans. you still, then get off of him and stand up.

"why don't you love me anymore?" you pout.

"just tell me where the fucking spider is, woman," he tells you, sighing, while rubbing his face. you gasp, pointing at his chest.

"so you knew!"

"girl, you've done this shit at least once a month since we started dating," he states. silence. you frown.

"we've been together since high school," he continues. silence, again. your frown deepens.

"we're 25," he finishes. you raise your hands in the air.

"okayyyy maybe i'm a bit dramatic. sue me for wanting to be saved by my egotistical, mean, big boyfriend who simply doesn't like me enough to come rescue me every time i need a knight in shining armor," you say, closing your eyes and placing the back of your hand on your forehead. you hear him huff and you open one eye. then he nudges you away, getting a napkin from your nightstand and catching the microscopic eight legged arachnid from the wall.

"there. happy?" he says, looking at you, bored.

"thank you babyyyy," you gush over to him, finally at peace, kissing his cheek sweetly.

suddenly, he gets far from you. you don't even have time to react: he straight up launches the napkin at your face, then hurries out of the room, laughing.

"SUKUNA RYOMEN, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

that night, he sleeps on the couch. karma is a bitch, indeed.

[larluce]

Arthur thinks Merlin was raped (but he wasn't)

This is kind of a prequel to this post, click here if you want more context -> LINK

Tagging @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @odinjm , @hssmaureader , @daniella0 , @stressed-but-chill , @smileytrinity

When Arthur finds Merlin in the woods after being lost for 3 weeks, he feels so much joy. He doesn't remember feeling so much joy in his life. Merlin is dirty, his clothes riped and with dry blood, but alive. And that’s all he cares right now.

Arthur: (more than happy and relieved) Merlin! I thought we lost you (goes to him to give him a hug, thinking) That I lost you.

Merlin: (Backs away quickly before Arthur can hug him, wide eye and terrified)

Arthur: (confused) Merlin?

Gwain: Merls, it's us, relax (extends a hand)

Merlin: (shakes his head, frantic, and goes limping to hide behind a tree)

Lancelot: (worried) Merlin... (aproaches carefully) Merlin, it's okay. You're safe now (extends his hand, gently, with a reassuring smile).

Merlin: (shakes his head again and tries to say something but he can't, so he whimpers quietly)

Lancelot: No touching, alright. (Lifts his hands in surrender) No one is going to touch you.

Arthur: (approaches as carefully as Lancelot did) Do you recognise us? (Thinking, begging) Please, say you do.

Merlin: (Nods and tries to speak again, but closes his mouth, frustrated)

Arthur: (realises, heartbroken) You can't speak.

Arthur and the knights can only imagine the horrors Merlin endured. It's obvious he was tortured but they didn't know how much of his new behaviour is result of physical damage or trauma. For example, is Merlin too traumatized to speak or is he physically unable? Did his tortures cut his tonge? Damaged his vocal chords? And what the hell have they done to Merlin to make him so afraid of human touch?

With a lot of reassuring and patience, they manage to bring Merlin back to Camelot. It was difficult not to touch him when he kept limping and falling. And Merlin refused to use a horse for some reason, no matter how much they insisted, so they had to get a cart to transport him. When they finally arrive, they bring him to Gaius immediately so the physician can check him, but Merlin doesn't let him touch him either and he locks himself in his room. It takes days for Gaius to have a formal diagnosis for the king.

Gaius: (reports painfully) He was starved, beaten, cut, whiped and burned several times for what I could see.

Arthur: For what you could see?

Gaius: He wouldn't let me see all the wounds (sighs). He was also immobilized with chains by the wrists, ankles and neck. He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself.

Arthur: (his heart aching for Merlin and burning in fury for the bastards who did this, composes himself just enough to ask again) His voice... did they...did they cut his-

Gaius: No, sire. He's physically able to talk He's just too traumatized to do it. It might take a while for him to talk again.

Arthur: (sighs releaved, but still fill with sorrow) Why? Why would they do this to him? Merlin never hurt anyone, who would want to- (stops when he sees Gaius apprehensive expression) You know something.

Gaius: (hesitantly) Merlin can't speak but he can still write, sire. He... he managed to write me some things.

Arthur: (raises his voice, angry) And you tell me this now?! What did he write?

Gaius: ...

Arthur: (demands) Gaius, I order you to tell me.

Gaius: (sighs) Apparently the bandits that captured him wanted... information sire. To know all the weak spots of the castle... and everything related to you.

Arthur: (open his eyes wide, horrified and devastated, and sinks in a nearby chair) No...

Gaius: He didn't say a thing, sire. You don't have anything to wo-

Arthur: (explodes) I know he didn't! That idiot! He should have told them everything! I wouldn't have blamed him, but of course he didn't. I whish he had (breaks down and cries) This is all my fault.

Gaius: (comforting him, a hand on Arthur's shoulder) This is no one's fault but theirs. You can't prevent every conspiration, attack or attemp murder directed at you. You're the king. It's expected.

Arthur: I should have protected him better, found him sooner. I should-

Gaius: Dwelling on what if scenarios won't help you. And it definitely won't help Merlin. What he needs now is for you to be there for him, be strong for him

So Arthur does just that. When Merlin keeps locking himself in his room and refuses to leave, Arthur visits him at the door and slide pieces of paper through the door crack so Merlin can write the words he can't speak and they can have a small talk at least once a day. Arthur can hear things being thrown and broken constantly and, the first days, Merlin doesn't even pick up the paper. When Merlin finally does, the paper is returned with a short messages along the lines of "Go away", "Leave me alone" to which Arthur reponds firmly he won't, he never will, every single time. Then Merlin's messages turn longer little by little and Arthur's one sided conversations with the door are over.

The day Merlin finally leaves his room and resumes his duties is a blessing as much as it is a curse. Arthur is glad and greatful at Merlin's progress, but seeing him doing his chores silently, just noding or shaking his head when asked something, and without sharing a single smile is painful. Merlin still doesn't let anyone touch him, which everyone respects, but is specially difficult for Arthur since, he realises, he used to manhandle his manservant a lot. They still comunicate through papers when necessary, but is just not the same.

A particular day Merlin almost falls down the stairs and Arthur, forgetting his manservant boundaries for a second, catches him in reflex.

Merlin: (separates from Arthur in full panic mode, screaming) NO!

Arthur: I'm so sorry, Merlin! I didn't mean-wait (open his eyes wide in surprise) You talked?

Merlin: (unsure, repeats) No? (brings a hand to his mouth in surprise and repeats, fearful) No? (his hand goes to his neck, nervous, as if expecting something bad to happen, but then he smiles brightly and shouts, very excited) No!😃 NO!😄

Arthur: (laughs in excitment, so happy he might cry) Your voice is back! You can talk again! (about to go for a hug)

Merlin: (lifts his hands, warnly) No!😠

Arthur: (lifts his hands too, quickly) Right, sorry. (They both lower their hands at the same time) Ahm... Is 'no' the only word you can say?

Merlin: (shrugs)

Arthur: Come one, try something else.

Merlin: (hesitanly) Ar...thur?

Arthur: See? You can talk.

Merlin: (smiles softly, and says fondly) Arthur. (tries to say something more elaborated, but in the end only manages to say again) Arthur. (Purses his lips, frustrated)

Arthur: (smiles at him fondly) One word at a time, don't force yourself. I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's good to hear your annoying voice again. (thinking) And hearing you saying my name and smiling. How much I missed that smile.

After that, Merlin is able to give short answers. First from 1 to 3 words and later one sentence or two. He's also more expressive now with his features, not as much as he was before, but he makes small frowns and gives small smiles from time to time. Arthur craves those moments. Even if Merlin's face contorts in fury because Arthur tried to exclude him from going on trips with him to protect him, or because Arthur doesn't do things like throwing things at him anymore because he believes Merlin's made of cristal. Arthur can’t help feeling happy because Merlin's face is finally wearing some emotion.

Then comes the day Arthur sees Merlin having a nightmare.

Arthur finds Merlin fallen asleep in his bed. Before Arthur would have get mad, but he knows through Gaius that Merlin hasn’t been sleeping well so he lets him. He starts checking his informs when suddenly he hears Merlin crying for help. Arthur runs to him inmediatly.

Merlin: (begs in his sleep, moving and crying desperatly) No! Anything but that, please.

Arthur: (tries to wake him up without touching him) Merlin, it's just a nightmare. Wake up.

Merlin: (doesn’t wake up and cries more painfully) Please! Hurts too much! Please! Stop!

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: Arthur! Arthur, I'm here! Please! Arthur!

Arthur: (shouts) Merlin!

Merlin: (wakes up abruptly and checks desperatly his wrists and neck)

Arthur: (comforting him) You are safe. You are in Camelot. You are safe.

Merlin: (wipes his tears and looks around) I fell asleep in your bed. I'm sorry.

Arthur: (smiles) It’s okay. (Wants to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but restrains himself) You were having a nightmare.

Merlin: I... I don't want to talk about it.

Arthur: Alright. But if you ever want to. Just know that I'm here to listen.

Merlin: (Nods in understanding and sighs) I'll get back to work. (Stands up)

Arthur: (complains, but not really) As you should. Those chores aren’t going to make theirselfs, you know?

Merlin: (smiles a little, cause he knows what Arthur is doing) Right away, sire. (Leaves)

After that, Arthur asks Gaius if he knows what Merlin's dream are about exactly, because it seemed there was a especific type of torture Merlin dreaded the most, but while Gaius seems to know, he refuses to tell him, even when he commands him. "It's not my place to tell" It's all physician says. It bugs Arthur the rest of the day. It's not until Arthur leads a trial of a rape victim that devasting realisation hits him.

That girl, that poor girl acts just like Merlin. Not letting anyone touch her, barely speaking. There are marks on her wrists of ropes the inmobilized her while she was... Just like Merlin's chains. "He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself" Gaius had said. Merlin's nightmares. Merlin limping when they found him in the wood. Merlin not wanting to ride on a horse.

Arthur's world crushes all over again. His Merlin, his best friend was raped. Arthur can see his knights came to the same conclusion, because of the devasted expression they have when he meets them in private.

Elyan: (still in denial) It can't be... not Merlin.

Leon: It does make sense though. If none other torture seemed to work...

Percival: And Merlin has always had... very delicate features for a man.

Gwaine: Those sick bastards!

Lancelot: (no quiet believing this theory yet because he knows Merlin has magic to defend himself, but he can't share that so he just stays silent) ...

Arthur: (with deadly and serious expression) As soon as we find them, we'll make them pay. For now I want you to keep taking turns in watching over Merlin.

All knights: Yes, sire!

By month 3, Merlin talks almost as frequently as he did before, maybe with less jokes and smiles, but he's getting there. Arthur is glad some of their usual banter is back.

Merlin: (asks, shyly) Arthur? Could you... it's just I want to try something, but... you don't have to if-

Arthur: (throwing whatever he's doing inmediatly) Of course, anything. Just ask.

Merlin: (blushes a little) Could you... give me your hand?

Arthur: (his heart stops with emotion for a moment, but composes himself) Sure (he extends his hand)

Merlin: (slowly but surely joins their palms and smiles. After a moment, he says relieved to himself) Nothing happened.

Arthur: (joyful at feeling Merlin's touch again, but his heart breaking at Merlin's words) Of course nothing happened. I would never hurt you, Merlin.

Merlin: (smiles a little) I know. (Lets go of Arthur’s hand)

Arthur: (missing his touch already) If you need to... you can ask me to help you again, you know? With the whole touching thing.

Merlin: (surprised) Really?

Arthur: (nods) Whenever you want.

Merlin: (smiles a little) Thank you.

And Arthur finds himself craving those moments too. He always waits for Merlin to initiate the touch. Arthur doesn't risk doing it, fearing he could scare Merlin. So he waits. First Merlin just asks to join their hands from time to time. Then, one blessful day, Merlin tell him is okay to touch his arm or his shoulder like Arthur used to do. Arthur does it gently though, enjoying and appreciating it as he never did before. Arthur feels sense of achievement when Merlin stops tensing at his touch completly, at easy with him again.

Gwaine: (while training, sighs) I miss Merlin's hugs.

Lancelot: (sad) Me too. He's making a great progress with touch though. And he smiles more.

Percival: Remember when he asked me if I could carry him in my back?

Elyan: And you said "I could carry you with a single finger!" And then you picked him up (All the knights except for Arthur, laugh)

Arthur: (suddenly very sternly) stop chatting and get back to training.

Gwaine: Relax, princess. We were just talking about all the times Merlin-

Arthur: (raises his voice, mad) I said get back to training!

Leon: (worried) Are you alright, sire?

Arthur: (harshly) I'm fine.

Gwaine: (realising) Wait... you've never hugged Merlin before?

Arthur: ...

Gwaine: (laughing) Oh, gods! That's what it is. You're jealous!

Lancelot: (warns) Gwaine.

Gwaine: What? Is not my fault mister I'm-too-great-to-show-affection didn't get to hug Merlin before.

Leon: (seeing Arthur's increasinly furious face, warns too) Gwaine, stop.

Gwaine: And he doesn't get to be mad at us just because he'll never get to hug him now.

Arthur: (shouts and launches himself at Gwaine and they start fighting)

The rest of the knights: (try to stop them but is useless).

Arthur: (about to throw the finale punch)

Merlin: (enters the training ground and aproaches, confused) Arthur? Gwaine? What's happening?

Arthur: (gets distracted at Merlin's appearance)

Gwaine: (takes advantage and makes Arthur trip)

Arthur: (Ends with his face in a puddle of mud)

Gwaine:... 😨

Elyan:... 😧

Lancelot:...😓

Percival: ...😰

Leon: ...🤦‍♂️

Merlin: (burst out laughing) OMG! Your face! I can't! 🤣😂

All the knights, specially Arthur: (stunned but mostly mesmerised cause Merlin hasn’t laugh, properly laugh since they found him in the woods and they have missed his beautiful laugh so damn much)

Merlin: (wipes his tears of hapiness) Sorry. I'm done now.

Arthur: (Thinking, almost in panic) No, you aren't! (Turns to Gwaine and orders) Gwaine, give me your face.

Gwaine: What-

Arthur: (smashes mud in his face)

Merlin: (starts laughing again, but not as hard as before)

Lancelot: (understanding what Arthur is doing, thinks) Is not enough. (Makes a ball of mud and throws it at Elyan's face)

Elyan: Hey! 😠

Lancelot: (pointing at Merlin) Look!

Merlin: (is laughing harder)

Percival: (shouts) Mud fight! (And everyone starts throwing mud at each other)

Merlin: (still laughing) What are you doing, you idiots! Now I'll have to wash all your armors!

Arthur: Don't be dull, Merlin! Join us!

Merlin: (giggles) You're worst than children, I swear. (shakes his head but joins the fight)

Arthur's finally got his Merlin back and he'll never lose him again.

[slasherscream]

Hi, can I request a poly ghostface with a reader who's in drama? How would they react to her getting a lead in a horror musical (for example Mrs. Lovett from Sweeney Todd)?

A/N: going through my inbox and trying to get to the oldest stuff that still inspires me to respond. sorry for the world's longest wait. i am simply an easily distracted creature of the night.

They're hyping you up beyond reason. You're talented, but it doesn't matter if you sucked, they'd give you an ego about how good you are either way. Why? Because they love you. So everyone else better love you too... or else 🔪🔪🔪.

It's giving everyone better clap for my s/o when they come out to make their final bow or we'll blow up this fucking building, yeah.

Despite loving you, attending theatre really isn’t their favorite thing to do in the world. 

So you getting a role in a horror musical is like… even though they love you: *insert finally some good fucking food gordon ramsey image here*

Are you more pumped to have gotten the lead in this play or are they?

No amount of fake blood is enough for them. They want to see you dripping in the fake blood of your fake victims. They bully their way backstage during the intermission of the show and they make you do a twirl while covered in fake blood. You look delicious.

It isn’t appropriate to do but Stu can’t stop himself from cheering at certain points. Billy hits him and tells him quietly to “shut your fucking hole they’re trying to act up there!”  

Billy reads up on how to care for your vocal chords. Right before you go on stage he’s always got a hot lemon tea in hand for you. He makes you use a vocal nebulizer every day and go to a steam room twice a week. He’s got no clue if any of the stuff works but he doesn’t want you damaging your voice, so do it just in case and stop bitching about it.

Stu is your hype man. Even on the days they don’t attend performances, since the show runs for a while, he sends a shit ton of flowers for you to receive. We’re talking roses in every color. If someone working on stage crew has allergies, watch out! The sheer amount of flowers is a genuine public health hazard. He wants everyone to know you’re the best there is. A dozen rose bouquets might not send the message. Twenty will!

They keep an eye on your understudy as if your understudy is going to plot to kill you. You are not allowed to hang out with your understudy when they’re not around. 

Billy saw you drink a beverage that your understudy handed you and barely wanted to speak to you on the way home after rehearsal. “You’re asking for it. You’re really asking for it, Y/N. You don’t know what that nutcase might have put in there!” Sir, I think the only nutcase here is you. 

They might have to kill that understudy just to be safe.

[beansricejc]

Returning the Favor - John Wick x F!Reader

⚠️warnings: DUBCON, smut, piv, facial, pressured intimacy, implied abuse (not John), graphic depictions of violence, cursing, alcohol, blackmail, noncon pictures, no use of y/n!, 3716 words.

a/n: it’s me again, back with something I’ve been cooking for a few days. life is wild rn but I hope u all enjoy!

summary: John does a hit for you, at no cost, and now he wants something in return. it’s only fair, right?

John remembers your little face. The way your eyebrows furrowed at his insistence of doing this job free of charge. The split skin on your lip and the bruising on your cheek and wrists, he can picture it clearly.

He pictured you walking up to him in the alley outside of the Continental, where a friend of yours told you he would be.

He recalled the way you asked about his services.

“Who do you need gone?” he had asked, as you handed him a manilla envelope. That’s when he noticed the blue and yellow pattern that littered your skin when you reached your hand out to him to give him the paperwork.

“My fiancé.” you stammered out of those damaged lips of yours. “He’s the chief of police, and I’ve tried getting away, getting protection orders, but he’s able to just get rid of anything I do.” you elaborated.

John’s eyebrows raised at the sound of that. He added the context clues together and immediately understood, especially after seeing your bruises. John assumed you weren’t a kickboxer in your spare time.

He’s still able to admire your delicate features, despite the fact you’re not trying exactly to look pretty. He can still tell that you have gorgeous eyes and long lashes, a nice haircut that frames your well shaped face to perfection. Your skin is smooth and clear, and your body? Even though you’re in a cropped hoodie, you do have leggings on.

Oh leggings. Truly underrated in all aspects. The way the cloth clings to your body, shaping around your hips, thighs, and ass.

Truly beautiful. He can tell.

Maybe he could use this to his advantage? Not necessarily the most morally correct way to get a woman, but it could do the trick.

And use he did. He would use it to his advantage, in a simple and innocent move.

“I’ll do it. No charge.” John replied to you, you’re taken aback by the sudden generosity from him, you’re so shaken by the entire situation you don’t even notice his eyes trailing your entire figure and checking you out.

“Really? No, I can’t let you,” you insist, handing him a duffel bag full of 5 figures of cold hard cash, but he simply refuses it.

“We can discuss it later…” John says, shaking his head and outright not taking the bag. “Keep your money. Please.”

-

He’s thinking of this encounter as his blade thrusts into your fiance’s throat, finally getting the winning blow after their quite large altercation. As a police captain, your fiancé knew how to hold his own in a fight quite well.

Not well enough apparently.

Your fiancé gurgles as John shoves him against his bed, the blade destroying his vocal chords and windpipe. John makes one swift movement with his wrist, and the blade rips out of his flesh, separating several tendons. The severed arteries cause blood to squirt onto John’s neck and face.

“No one likes a woman beater.” John clicked his tongue at the dying police officer, who crumpled to the floor, blood pooling from his lethal wound and onto the carpet. A bubbling sound echoes from his mouth, the red liquid dribbling from his lips, and in a few more moments, his eyes are drained of any life that was left in them.

John rolled his own eyes and quickly did his best to destroy the good condition of the condo, making it seem like a robbery gone wrong. He grabbed a few things that looked of value, including a few expensive watches and some impressive Japanese chef knives, and went on his way.

-

You had stayed at your friend’s house in the meantime. Anxiety spiked through your chest, hoping everything was going to plan. You honestly weren’t able to take it anymore, your fiancé had really outdid himself this time. You had gone out with your girlfriends for some drinks on Saturday night, he didn’t appreciate you not sharing your location with him. So the obvious reaction? To beat the absolute piss out of you. You were wearing a sweater in 70 degree weather because of the purple and blue marks that littered your skin, including on your arms, abdomen, and back.

You had enough. Clearly enough to save up money doing side gigs without him knowing and saving enough to pay for a hitman that a friend of a friend told you about. You’re playing something with your friend on her Nintendo Switch as you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

You frantically grab the device, opening it to find a text from an unknown number.

It’s done. Meet me at the Continental’s bar.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. That could only mean one thing. The job was finished.

He was finally dead.

Sighing in relief, your friend raised her eyebrows and turned to you.

“You good?” she asked.

“Huh?” You say out of the blue, shaking yourself out of your solace. “Yeah. Never better.” you force a smile.

-

John waited for you at the bar, he had changed and showered, washing the blood that had gotten on him from his little altercation with your now ex. The atmosphere is the typical Continental’s vibe, comfortable, upscale. He’s waiting for you at a small table with an open bottle of champagne. John hadn’t been able to get your cute face and nice figure off of his mind since he met you the other day. The day when he said to not worry about paying him.

Well, today he’d discuss another form of payment he was interested in. A favor for a favor one would say. A body for a body.

He wanted you.

His eyes trail up towards you who just arrived, wearing a simple yet oh so flattering outfit, your eyes are glued to your cell phone while you walk in.

John cleared his throat and shot you a little wave of his hand, catching your attention. Your beautiful eyes widen, and you smile at him, slipping your phone into the purse slung over your shoulder as you make your way over to his table. John couldn’t help but check your entire body out. Your face, legs, tits, even the way your hips swayed a bit while you walked made him just want to take a bite out of them.

God, you looked delicious.

Sitting down, you smiled at John.

“Hey, how are you?” you asked him, attempting to disguise the fact that you’re freaking out. Several emotions have been pumping in and out of your brain, you don’t know how to exactly feel. Grief? Safe? Relief? Distress?

Especially in front of the man that solved your biggest issue in your life within a manner of minutes. How do you present yourself in front of him? More importantly, how are you going to possibly defend yourself to the police?

Only time will tell.

John sighs, you sit down. He begins to speak as he pours your light, bubbly glass of alcohol.

“Not too bad, actually.” John answered your initial greeting. “More importantly, how are you, my dear?” John boomerangs your question. Your heartbeat accelerated and you set your purse in your lap.

“Complicated. I’ll figure it out later.” is what you manage to come up with, biting the inside flesh of your mouth, your delicate fingers are silently tinkering with the zipper pull of your purse that sits just under the table. Of course he asked that. This is what he does for a living, he doesn’t think twice about the act.

The two of you engage in small talk, and it’s surprisingly refreshing. John has a lovely smile for a killer, with his nicely maintained dark scruff outlining his cheeks and jaw whenever he chuckles at a quip of yours. His brown eyes are always in a narrowed position but they seem to always glow towards you, never taking them off of your face for a moment.

You don’t know it at first, of course you don't. John’s a professional. He's deliberate in every breath, every shift of his body, in such a way that could only be described as masterful.

You don’t notice him until he has taken forty-five minutes to inch closer to you in his chair, shifting every so often to eventually, be brushing up against your delicate frame, arm to arm.

By now you’re on your third glass of champagne, you simply didn’t want to think about any of your problems, to just enjoy your time with this man that simply did you a favor.

Right?

“I’d like to request something of you.” John suddenly says in the middle of a conversation about your hometown. He’s been awfully interested in different topics about your life, you haven’t even thought twice about it. “I can’t tarnish my reputation with the fact that I did a job, free of charge.” John states, his head tilted directly down at little ol’ you, who’s currently sipping your drink.

Your heart drops to your gut while you swallow.

“…that’s fine. I still have the mon-“

“I don’t want the money. It’s not important to me.” John interjected, with his hand suddenly resting on your soft upper thigh, the feeling of his long fingers squeezing the limb almost making you jump from your seat.

The way his thin brown eyes are gazing over you and your figure, it would have sent most people into cardiac arrest. You put two and two together, holding your breath as you maintain eye contact.

“I see.” were the words you whispered while he gave you a soft and endearing smile.

But those eyes? Those eyes were cold. The pair of his told you things you couldn’t imagine repeating.

Before you can say anything else, John’s lips travel to your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin as he speaks. The hairs on the back of your pretty neck stand straight up at the knowledge of how close he was to you.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I took the job.” John informs you, his voice low and sultry, only meant for you to hear at that moment in time. “I made sure he suffered. And you owe me for that. Least you could do is… well,” John’s eyes trail down your figure, especially eying your cleavage.

Your heart is breaking. There was a twinge of hope in the back of your mind, aching for this man to be the one. The one to swoop you off of your feet and come save you like the damsel in distress that you were. But men are so disappointing.

“So, are you going to give me what I want? Or do I need to take it?” John sharply asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. Your blood turns cold at the thought of this killer having his way with you, touching you, fucking you. You were stuck. The anger churned in your gut as you clenched your jaw.

“Fine.”

Several minutes pass, and he has led you to his hotel room on the 8th floor, unlocking it and allowing you to enter first. You can only tell the luxuries this man has at his disposal, just from the glamorous hotel room he has brought you to.

The room is dimly lit, with a few candles he begins to light and the moon shining through the curtained windows. You furrow your eyebrows, biting your tongue, as you never imagined John, the killer, to be the romantic ambience type. You suddenly snap out of your head when he calls you by your name.

“Hm?” you ask, eyes wide as he’s turned towards you next to the bed.

“I asked, is there anything you’re uncomfortable doing? And what’s your preferred pace?” John repeated himself, apparently you had been stuck in your own thoughts and didn’t catch it the first time.

Of course there are things you’re not comfortable with in bed. Hell, you’re not even comfortable doing this with a man you hardly know!

You tell him the few things that are completely off limits with you, he ponders this and nodded his head, agreeing to your terms, even though this was a favor you were returning. The man, perhaps 20 years your senior, hasn’t broken eyesight with your figure for the past hour.

You almost feel like a meal that’s been prepared, just for him. Served on a silver platter and sent directly to his room, waiting to be ravaged upon. You wouldn’t be surprised if he began drooling soon.

He wasn’t kidding when he told you he’s been thinking about this since he met you a few days ago. It’s like you’ve tattooed yourself into his fleshy and morbid brain, refusing to let go, tormenting him with every small action you did, unintentionally or not.

But your curiosity is killing you.

“What pace do you prefer?” you shoot the question back at him instead of answering it yourself. You were experienced, sure. You were a grown woman. The past several months were filled with abuse and subpar sex with your (now dead) fiancé. Not that this owed favor would be any better, you’re expecting something that lasts maybe a few minutes just so John can get his stress out.

Of course you’re not expecting John to be generous, especially if this is simply a debt to be paid by your body.

John tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue in thought while he sauntered over to you, who was on the opposing side of the bed. His eyes linger on you, not blinking even once as he soaks in your features. His rough hands began to undo his black silk tie, unbuttoning his white dress shirt that had already been stripped of its suit jacket. His knuckles are bruised and scabbed, John’s been a busy boy this week.

“It seems I may have grown a bit, fond, of you, this week.” John says, clearing his throat. “Can I show you how I want you?”

Your heart rate goes up, you bit the inside of your cheek, blinking up at the tall and intimidating creature that is John. It’s not like you can say no. You owe him. You owe him your life, he practically saved yours, no matter how unethical this was.

So you nod your head.

Moments pass but it doesn’t take John long to practically rip off your cute outfit, revealing the soft and sexy figure underneath. His bruised hands immediately grab you, he’s completely overtaken by the reminder of how small and delicate you look. Your sheer size difference between you and him, in height and weight, makes him so fucking erect. John shoved you against the fancy hotel wall, attaching his lips to yours, initiating a dance of tongues and teeth, taking your bottom pink lip and nibbling a bit. The move earns a squeak from your throat. John takes a moment to take his hands off of your soft flesh, disconnecting his lips from yours. John unzips his pants, letting them and his heavy belt fall to the floor.

It doesn’t take a second thought for him to reattach his hands to your thighs, grunting as he easily lifted your body up and to his level, with easier access to your lips and… well, your other pair of lips.

In the few minutes that you’ve been kissing, your cunt began to glisten with your arousal, especially now with John’s bare and rock hard cock pressing up to your small entrance.

“Shit, I just know you’re a tight little thing, huh?” John growled, using his innate strength to only hold you up by one arm, spitting into his hand and rubbing the slick between the tiny folds between your thighs. You moan as he delicately rubbed your clit, then giving himself a few pumps to wet his length.

“You gonna give up your pretty little pussy to pay me back? Huh? Gonna be a good hole for me to fuck?” John asked in a gruff and low tone into your ear, while you felt his thick tip push inside. Your breath hitched at the burn of his unexpectedly large dick, your cunt can only adjust so much in so little time.

“Agh! Y-y-yeah, just like that, please,” you stammered, gripping hard onto his muscular and wide back while he began to thrust. John gave you little to no time to get used to his length. You’re quickly able to adjust to his pace while he grabs your hips and thighs, moving you up and down on his cock that he was simultaneously thrusting into. Tonight, you’d be his good little fuck toy.

“Fuck, need to be deeper in you.” John growled, manhandling you and tossing you onto the hotel mattress. Within seconds, he had flipped your body, stomach side down and pulled your ass straight up in the air, giving you a few hard smacks.

You cry out in pain but before you can say anything, he’s already jammed his cock back into your tight cunt, with you squeezing yourself around him, earning yourself a few tender moans from John.

John took his large hand to grab the roots of your hair, pulling your head and neck back while John pounded into you, causing you to go dizzy. He’s fucking you almost like a rabid animal, and for some reason, you love it. The two of you resemble dogs in heat, while he relentlessly thrusted into your already sore pussy, moving his hand from your hair to around your throat. You can even feel his balls smack the cusp of your ass, informing you that he’s been fucking you with his full length for a bit now. You swore you could feel John’s cock in your stomach, moaning and begging out loud for him.

John’s hand tightens around your throat, restricting as much oxygen as possible, quieting your moans and cries for more.

He brings his other hand and spanks your red ass again, it’s gonna hurt to sit down for the next few days, but the sensation along with him fucking you from behind was a delicious combination.

“Good little slut, who’s my whore? Huh?” John asked, spanking you again. The sting of your ass is almost too much to bear.

You struggle to answer, but you do it.

“M-me! I’m your little whore.” Your scratchy voice strains. He flips over your pretty body again, his hands and eyes glazing over the front of you. You’re going to hurt tomorrow. You can only imagine all of the bruises and scratches you’ll be finding over the next few days.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world right now.” John mumbled, spreading your legs all the way to your chest and putting himself into you, thrusting over and over again. The tip of his cock keeps brushing against your cervix, making you whimper and cry out, your nails dig into his biceps, and he couldn’t care less. “So fuckin’ beautiful, just for me…” John grunts under his breath. He lets out an intense groan from the bottom of his throat, pulling out of your sopping wet hole. You almost frown.

Unfortunately, you ended up beginning to like this favor you owed a bit too much. So much so that you begin to whine and pout the second that John pulled himself from you.

The older man bit his lip and raised his eyebrows, forcing himself to stifle his wicked smirk as he peers down at a desperate and needy little thing from below.

That thing being you, of course.

“Oh?” John asked innocently, despite the filthy sin you two were committing at the moment. “What do we have here?”

Remember when I mentioned that you were a meal in waiting?

Well, John was about to devour you.

He’s starving for you, attaching his lips and tongue to the folds he’s been unforgivably pumping into for the past half an hour. The sensation of his calloused fingers gripping and spreading your fleshy thighs apart, with malicious intent, mixed with the gentle and needy laps his tongue is giving your pussy is nearly too much to handle. He even gives your clit a few soft motions with his lips, your vision is blacking out from the carnal ecstasy John is so humbly gifting you at the moment.

Your ears can pick up a soft grunting from him, he’s taking his free hand and twisting it up and down on his shaft, touching himself to the act of him savoring your cunt.

John pushes two of his long fingers into you while he quickens the pace on your sensitive core, earning a sudden scream from you, jolting up and arching your back. John opens his eyes, not stopping, rather just looking at the way your tits bounced when you arch your back.

You were close. Way too close. John’s fingers were skillfully working you up, and you began to unconsciously clench around them.

“J-John, I’m gonna-“

“Cum for me.” John interrupted, his mouth still in your pussy as he kept his movements steady. He let out a few masculine whimpers into your clit while you lost control of your senses.

Your orgasm nearly brings you to the brink of tears, your vision blacks out, this is a completely new way to experience a climax. Your small hands grip the hell out of the hotel bed sheets, John allows you to ride out your orgasm, while you’re still recovering with your eyes closed, he quickly moves up towards you, and you feel a hot sticky substance splash onto your lips and cheeks.

“Fuck.” John catches his breath, panting and trembling along with you as he came on your face.

And there was a ton of it. Your eyes fluttered open, but you immediately shut them again, noticing that he wasn’t done, with more thick white ropes of his seed spurting now onto your nose and brow, painting a licentious portrait onto your delicate features.

You hear a click, and can see the outline of a bright flash through your closed eyes, but with your cock drunk state, you wouldn’t even think to mention it to John.

Besides, now he has a pretty little Polaroid picture of the facial he gave you, just the right size to keep in his wallet for safe keeping.

Now he has a bit of leverage on you, just in case he'd like another favor like this again. You wouldn’t want him to spread such a lewd picture of yourself around the internet, now would you?

He’ll enjoy every last bit of you for every single session you two share together. He’ll take advantage of your vulnerability and willingness to cave at any slight disadvantage you had.

You were his, and you didn’t even know it.

[muttinthenest]

I'm just an animal.

Humans and I aren't the same species. Somehow, it's like they see the animal in me. Speak to me as rarely as they can, skirt around where I step like I'm a danger to them. They speak in a language I don't recognize, make quips about how ragged I look, how uncanny my behaviour is, and how sharp these teeth and claws I hold look in their eyes.

I am not built the same as them. My mind and body are made from different flesh. And they can tell. They can tell just from looking at me. Not one of us, I see the thought behind their eyes. I can't understand the concept that one of them could not be a danger to me, that any of them don't want to hurt me the way they have my whole life. I snarl and bite my teeth at them, then cover my mouth in hot shame. I can't even mimic their rage.

My teeth are inhuman and monstrous. I look at them in the mirror and see a wide animal maw staring back at me. I learned early to not smile or laugh in a way that shows them off. Humans don't like when a beast bares it's teeth at them.

My voice is garbled and broken, throat damaged from mimicking a language my vocal chords didn't evolve to speak. I used to take comfort in growling, snarling, crowing, screaming. It became clear that did nothing but scare them. I stopped.

Finding ones that aren't a danger is almost worse. Longing. I can be a good animal for you. Bite my tongue and hide my teeth away from you. Never speak so you can say anything you want to me. I can lay on the floor so you don't have to share your furniture with a filthy creature. Let me stay, I can be a good animal for you. I would be so good at it.

I'm as much a human as I am a rock or a leaf in the dirt below their feet.